by Harper, Chap
“No problem! Still want it ‘Beer, Bait, and Ammo,’ in that order?”
“Yes, let’s leave it in the order it has been for 50 fucking years—we don’t want to confuse our customers. Holy shit!” Stick stomped around to the back of the store, shaking his head and began barking out instructions to the construction crew.
The University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences was quiet at six o’clock in the morning. It seemed as though people and things moved slowly but with purpose and authority. A nurse met with Lester, having him sign a release and living will after Debi read them to him. The living will was the “vegetable form” that spelled out the pulling-of-the-plug process if your mind resembled an old head of cabbage after the operation. The nurse led them to a room where he was asked to put on a hospital gown. Lester’s dad was not due there for a couple of hours since he wanted to come to the recovery room and relieve Debi for a while. Lester came out of the bathroom wearing a gown that looked two sizes too small for his big frame. Debi helped him tie it behind him and couldn’t resist pinching his ass. He lay down on the hospital bed, trying not to show too much of his naked body to the nurse. More nurses arrived and hooked up an IV and EKG.
Lester had a few memories of the last time he was in the hospital; some were flashes of having tubes down his throat, then the news about his mom. He learned his mother had died by overhearing nurses talk while they thought he was asleep. He was only five at the time and started crying when they said he was the little boy whose mother was killed in a car wreck. Lester had been in a Hot Springs hospital for a short time, then moved to Arkansas Children’s Hospital in Little Rock for several weeks. There was swelling on his brain back then, but they chose not to put in a shunt. It was decided to let it recede slowly, as it did after several weeks. He went home to a house without a mother, with a grieving father, and with a mind that didn’t work right. Lester had survived and knew he could get through this.
More nurses and orderlies swarmed into the room, hooking up wires, putting a yellow substance around and up his nose, injecting something into the port on his IV. All were trying a little too hard to be jovial. They asked if he was ready for surgery and he groggily said yes. Debi ran over and kissed him, telling him everything would be fine and she loved him. He tried to respond but was drifting into drug land. He watched the sprinkler system and the ceiling tiles go by as they rushed him to the operating room. Still slightly awake, he noticed how bitter cold and metallic it was in the operating room. Lester felt as though he were going to have surgery in a refrigerator. They pulled his rolling bed next to what appeared to be a long thin metal slab. Several nurses and attendants slid him over on the narrow table, and a man in a plastic tent moved near him. It briefly reminded him of the ET movie. There were voices all around him and warm blankets were placed under him and on top of him. The man in the tent was moving above his head, and a peaceful darkness came over him. He felt nothing as an endotracheal tube was pushed down his throat.
Becca Valdez decided to enter the law enforcement field partly because she had been raped at age thirteen by a kindly, yet perverted, uncle—not just once, but on a recurring basis for three years. She was too scared and ashamed to tell her parents, and this man was family. He had been a favorite uncle, and she loved him as one would normally love a family member. He never threatened her or struck her, but to say he never harmed her would be a stretch. The uncle lived close by and would invite her to his home. She did what was expected of her, never complaining or resisting. She knew it was wrong but was too naïve to assess the magnitude of what was happening. Strange as it might seem, the experience was exciting at some level, getting to explore sex at such a young age.
Her uncle was a brand of sexual predator who used popular sexual culture Becca was exposed to from movies, TV, and the magazine rack as a way to make her feel good about the encounters. Her teenaged friends were talking about sex, but she was doing it. Knowing she was beyond curious, he used a kind approach, always making sure to be gentle so she would enjoy it. It wasn’t until she was sixteen and told one of her girlfriends about the sexual activity that the shit hit the fan. The friend demanded Becca tell her mom. Her mother, Maria Valdez, now informed, put her Latino temper in overdrive, marched over to see the uncle, her husband’s brother, and shot him between the eyes with a .357 magnum. She went to jail, and Becca’s life changed forever.
After high school and a couple years at National Park Community College, she decided to go to the police academy. Women were always needed to handle women offenders, doing pat downs, looking after them in jail, and of course doing everything the men do in the normal line of duty. Becca took several computer courses in college as she wavered between being an internet technician or a cop. Those technical skills made her very popular at the sheriff’s office, where she found herself in a sea of computer stupidity. When research was needed, she was the go-to girl.
When a guy needed a good time date, she was also the girl. It wasn’t clear if the early sexual activity led to her promiscuity, but she certainly had a leg up, so to speak, in experience. She enjoyed men a little too much. She had not been able to maintain long-term relationships with men, primarily because she just didn’t take romance seriously. Becca’s experience with her uncle had twisted sex and love into a knot.
The real shame was that she was only twenty-three years old, smart, very pretty with looks just shy of J. Lo and Eva Mendes and a sizzling hot body. In spite of her formidable issues, she always expressed a bubbly, outgoing personality, which won her many friends—primarily men. Lester and Little Richard had both taken her out in the past, and neither was in a hurry to go out with her again since there was no chase—only the catch. “Too damn aggressive,” both had said afterwards. Nevertheless, she still tried to get them back in bed, but with only sporadic success—except when horniness overwhelmed the two men.
When Rich approached her with the possibility of joining him and Lester on a trip to New Orleans to bust some gunrunners, she was thumbs up for the trip. After learning that Debi was going, she knew Little Richard would be the focus of her efforts.
Debi and Adrian sat next to each other in the surgery waiting room. Lester’s dad had arrived about an hour after his son went in for surgery. They were waiting for the doctor to emerge and give them an update on the operation.
“I know you have to work some next week, Debi. Would you like for me to stay with him for a while during the day?”
“Adrian, I’ve moved all my appointments to be over at about 1 or 2 in the afternoon. I’ll stay with him after that until the next morning. We have an ugly nurse lined up for any morning that I need her, but can use you anytime you are free in the mornings. I don’t want you to lose work, though.”
“I just hope that ugly nurse does the trick. What if she’s giving him a bath in his apartment and he forgets what ugly looks like? Of course, it would be a short affair because when he sees you he’ll know the difference.” They both laughed.
After reading all the Good Housekeeping and Southern Living magazines for almost an hour, the couple noticed a tall doctor walking towards them. He was a distinguished looking man wearing blue scrubs. Dr. Arrison had met Debi briefly before the operation, and he headed directly to her. He was smiling, and his mask was hanging by strings under his bearded chin.
“The operation went fine, and Lester will be in recovery for a while. The scar tissue was a little deeper than I thought it would be, but on the positive side it finally came loose from the brain without much, if any, residual scar tissue embedded. Also, there was very little bleeding, so the shunt can come out tomorrow afternoon if there continues to be no blood loss. Because of the depth of the invading anomaly there may be some short-term memory loss—that is, memory loss that he will regain in time. He may not know you at first, so give him time.
“After he heals, I would expect no less than a period of rapid learning and relearning. There’s no longer a barrier in front of his brain that blocks word and
symbol recognition. With his IQ and people to help him, the world is his oyster.
“I’ll give you some prescriptions when he checks out for his brain swelling, a blood thinner for clot prevention, and some pain medication. He will have headaches and sinus soreness for a few days. No flying or lifting for thirty days. He can drive in about a week or ten days, but I need to see him first. Make an appointment to see me in a week. He did great.”
Adrian thanked him and shook his hand. Debi hugged him and kissed him on the cheek and thanked him profusely. They were told to go to the recovery waiting room and later he would be assigned a room. The recovery room had a few hunting and fishing magazines, so Adrian was thrilled. After a short time, they were ushered in to a room segregating patients with curtains pulled in a circle. The two took opposite sides of his bed and saw that his eyes were open.
“Lester, it’s your dad. Do you recognize me?”
Lester looked up with a puzzled expression, but said nothing.
Debi leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. “Babe, it’s Debi. Remember me?”
Lester looked up and smiled. “You’re beautiful. Is a pretty girl like you married? Are we married?” His “break the ice” and pickup line hadn’t been carved out during the procedure, but his memory was not yet in place.
“No, we’re not married, but we are seeing each other a lot,” Debi said. She didn’t really want to say any more because she wanted the memory to come back on its own and not be planted there by her.
Tears came to her eyes, and Adrian moved to the other side of the bed and hugged her and assured her that his memory would come back. Debi wondered if he was turned loose before he got his memory back, would he likely take up with the first pretty girl that came along. She felt the need to hang close to him.
The hospital stay was uneventful as Lester continued to recover physically. He had a few headaches and some pain from the sinus entry point. People came by from Hot Springs to visit but were told before they came in that they needed to introduce themselves and explain where they worked and how they knew him. Jim Webb came by but didn’t talk about the case on which they were jointly working.
Little Richard and Becca came by and talked about going to New Orleans in a couple of weeks. Lester said it should be fun but had no idea about the purpose of the trip or who they were. Mike Adams came by for a minute to visit and asked Debi how she was going to reeducate him. She explained she was starting with a series of children’s ABC videos and then he would have classes with a second grade teacher.
“Once he catches on and his brain is healed, he should learn at lightning speed. There will be no stopping him. I just hope his taste in women doesn’t change,” Debi said.
“Hey, I hear he thought you were beautiful. You’ll be fine!” Mike said.
After Mike left, a reporter for the Hot Springs Sentinel Record came by and took a picture of Lester. She got some basic details but steered clear of any medical information that would have violated a privacy rule or might have embarrassed Lester if it were released to the public.
On Sunday afternoon he was released from the UAMS Hospital in Little Rock, and Debi drove him to his apartment in Hot Springs. He had learned, or relearned, some facts about her by the time he was home because he asked questions. She didn’t say much about their relationship. He could walk okay but was dizzy if he got up quickly and not totally stable when he walked, so Debi got him a three-pronged cane to keep him from falling, which would be extremely dangerous.
His healing was progressing and there were some signs part of his memory was returning by Tuesday morning. He got a disturbing call from Debi. Her brother Ray had been seriously injured in a car wreck in Walnut Creek, California. He was in ICU with internal injuries and was given a 50/50 chance of surviving. Debi was going out immediately with her parents and would be back as soon as he had been stabilized. Lester wished her well and said he could do fine without her and not to worry about him.
Before leaving town, Debi called as many people as she could to alert them to take care of Lester. The special nurse was not immediately available, but could come in a couple days. Lester’s dad said he could come by Wednesday as he had to work late on Tuesday. Little Richard would be on call if he needed anything and would let the sheriff’s office know. Her last call before getting on the plane was to Lester, who still didn’t realize the significance of their relationship or the attention he was getting from this pretty lady. She apologized for leaving him, and Lester expressed concern for her brother. Then inexplicably, he expressed his confidence in the medical community in Northern California and in particular the John Muir Trauma Unit in Walnut Creek. He wondered to himself how he knew anything about that subject. More and more he was finding out that he knew things but couldn’t explain where the knowledge came from. Debi stared at the phone after he hung up. “How in the hell did he know something I haven’t learned yet?”
Lester was feeling much better and rarely needed his cane for support. He was capable of cooking on his own but ate salads for most meals except breakfast when he cooked omelets or basted eggs, toast, and bacon from Coursey’s in St. Joe, Arkansas. How did he remember where the bacon came from? He sat down with a late breakfast omelet and picked up the newspaper to see a front page article about his operation. Standing next to his hospital bed were his dad and Debi. He really liked her and wondered what kind of relationship they had before the surgery. Memories of his dad were coming back slowly, but they were to the point that he was sure Adrian was his dad. He hoped the memories of Debi would come back.
Chapter Seventeen
Spider Gambini was eating a late breakfast at Hester’s Cafe. Her coffee was blond, her half-eaten omelet was tucked in a to-go box as usual, and she continued to read the local paper. There on the front page of the Sentinel Record was Lester’s picture, head wrapped in a bandage, smiling from a hospital bed with his dad and that damn speech therapist standing by. She read the entire article, but it didn’t give a lot of information on his condition except for his temporary memory loss. Running through her mind was whether he remembered her, and if she stopped by his place would he speak to her. For kicks, she might just stop to see him, but not if the dark-haired bitch was there. A call to the sheriff’s office from a concerned friend was in order. Spider’s informants had told her that Lester worked with Rich Robertson so she would start there. She got the operator at the Garland County Sheriff’s Office and asked to be connected.
“Rich, this is Darlene McFarlin. I’m a cousin of Lester’s in Tennessee, and I just heard he got operated on. How is he doing?”
“Darlene? He’s never mentioned you, but I’m sure I don’t know all his relatives. He’s doing okay and kind of taking care of himself now. His girlfriend’s brother was in a bad car wreck in California, and she flew out there to see him since he’s in intensive care. I’m on call if he needs anything. There’s a nurse that’s supposed to go there sometime this week. So far he’s cooked his own breakfast and is doing good. I call him every couple hours. Don’t you have his number?” Rich asked.
“We don’t talk much, and he never gave me his number. If you have it handy, I’ll call him and then I can report back to all the Tennessee relatives.”
Rich gave her the number, and the wheels started turning in her mind. She drove in the direction of his apartment, the location she had known for a long time. It was near her condo, so she would pick up a few things first and go over. How would she play this? So many ideas, and all of them were fun.
Debi and her parents rushed to the John Muir Medical Center in Walnut Creek, California and learned on the way that it was the only Trauma Center for Contra Costa County. After checking in at the front desk, they were directed to the ICU and told that only one family member could go in at a time and must be accompanied by a nurse. Tom made the first visit and met with one of the attending doctors. Ray had metal intrusion to his intestines and a punctured lung. His Mercedes had saved his life with several airbags having
deployed when a drunk driver plowed into the side of his car as he sat at a traffic light in Lafayette. He had been shopping at a book store to buy a gift for his wife for their anniversary. His wife, Shasha, and their two boys, Eric and Ryan, were at home, so they escaped the crash. The doctor told Tom that all the metal had been removed and the intestines had been repaired, but an open colostomy would be in place until everything healed. A tremendous amount of work took place to clean the area of puncture. His lung had collapsed, but it was repaired as well. No other internal injuries had occurred, but he had a broken wrist and arm that were placed in casts. Other than scars from a few lacerations and burns from airbags, he should recover. The doctor reminded Tom that people with multiple injuries sometimes just crash because of the overall trauma to their system. For that reason they had placed Ray into an induced coma for a while to let his body recover. In a day or two he would be slowly released from that and given large doses of pain killers.
After Debi and Susan took their turns looking at Ray, replete with tubes and wires coming out of several orifices, they all went to his home to be with Shasha and the kids. It did appear he would live but would have a long period of recovery.
Answering a knock on his front door, Lester greeted a beautiful blond lady in her thirties carrying a large purse.
“Hello. Are you Lester McFarlin?” Angel asked.
“Yes, I’m that guy. And you are…?”
“Flo Blackman. I’m a nurse that was sent over to help you. Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Debi said there would be a nurse, but you’re too pretty to be a nurse. You do realize that you’re beautiful.”
“Lester, I was told you were a big flirt. So, you’ll just have to let me do my job, and I’ll try to ignore your comments,” Angel said.